


Drunken Confession

by definekimjongdae (junhyung)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 14:29:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7688020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junhyung/pseuds/definekimjongdae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tonight, after long, Baekhyun confesses to Jongdae, for the first and last time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drunken Confession

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by jongdae’s masked singer performance of kim dong ryul's drunken truth (김동률 - 취중진담) and getting reminded of how hard i rooted for inguk/hoya in reply 1997.

“I like you,” Baekhyun says.

Across him, Jongdae sits, perched on the line of raised bricks that separates the sidewalk from exposed soil, legs apart and head hung low. He titters, then raises his head, a smile still on his face. He props an elbow on his leg and rests his cheek on his palm, head tilted and the ends of his mouth curled up in a rueful look. “Were you drinking?”

Baekhyun doesn’t say anything, just looks at Jongdae. Looks at the raised eyebrows and tired lines and droopy eyelids, fighting sleep.

Jongdae chortles, more sound than air, this time. “You sure did,” he concludes, reaching out with a finger to jab weakly at Baekhyun’s shoulder. “No wonder you smell awful,” he says, grimacing. Even this, Baekhyun thinks, is not an ugly look on him. “How many times have I told you not to drink when I’m not there? Who will carry you home when you’re too drunk to do it yourself?”

Jongdae is whining now, lips pouting cutely and rounding around syllables. Baekhyun can smell the faint waft of alcohol from Jongdae’s breath. The asphalt of the sidewalk is hard against Baekhyun’s rear and he lets out a short sigh. “Good guess,” he tells Jongdae, managing a tiny lift of one edge of his mouth. He feels too empty to smile. “But no, I haven’t been drinking.”

It’s cold out, the night breeze blowing against the sole fabric of Baekhyun’s shirt. Jongdae has settled to drawing circles on Baekhyun’s propped up knee, the tip of his finger barely touching the material. Baekhyun keeps his gaze on Jongdae.

“I mean it, Jongdae,” he tries again, and notices the little frown on Jongdae’s mouth, the unsure lines on his face.

“I don’t-,” Jongdae says, cutting himself off. He’s clutching at Baekhyun’s knee now, head lolling down like he’s about to fall asleep, but his eyes are open still and Baekhyun can see uncertainty in it.

Baekhyun tears his gaze from Jongdae, looks down at Jongdae’s hand holding onto his knee. “I’ve always liked you,” Baekhyun says, voice small, cowardish.

He thinks of how they had first met, in high school, when Baekhyun was the new transfer student and Jongdae had been so nice and friendly and welcoming. He still is now.

“You know, sometimes I wonder, how things could have been if we hadn’t started out as friends,” Baekhyun says, partly to himself.

It was love at first sight. Baekhyun has never believed in fairy tales, but Jongdae was…

He was so dreamy, so perfect. Baekhyun had simply waved it off, then, chucking it away as some stupid teenage crush. Six years later, and Baekhyun is still the biggest loser in his own life.

“Maybe things would’ve been different. I bet things would’ve been different.”

Baekhyun thinks of how it would’ve turned out if he’d mustered up the courage to confess, six years back. Jongdae would either accept him and they could try to work things out, or Jongdae would turn him down, and they wouldn’t end up together, not even friends, because things would be too awkward by then.

Either way, Baekhyun thinks it would’ve turned out better than how things are now. Maybe everything would have hurt a lot less.

“If I were to-”

“I want to go home,” Jongdae slurs, cutting Baekhyun off. When Baekhyun looks up, Jongdae has his face buried in one hand, head lolling and fingers massaging his own forehead.

Baekhyun feels so stupid.

“Okay,” is all he says as he gets up and helps Jongdae to his feet.

The walk home – Jongdae’s – takes a bit longer than usual. Jongdae is drunk, that much is obvious, and Baekhyun reckons even the simplest activities like walking like a normal person should be pretty hard at this point, even with Baekhyun holding Jongdae steady by the arm.

“Why aren’t you walking home,” Jongdae asks, more like a statement, leaning against Baekhyun as he teeters unsteadily.

Jongdae is so warm. Smells so much like alcohol, too, but still so warm. Baekhyun wants to hold him close. _Don’t be stupid, Baekhyun_.

“Night stroll. Thought I needed some fresh air,” Baekhyun says.

Jongdae nods. “Okay.”

It’s dark out, the moon high up in the night sky when they arrive at Jongdae’s. Baekhyun stands some good steps away from Jongdae as Jongdae goes to unlock his front door. A drunk Jongdae is a clingier than usual Jongdae, so the distance is much needed, keeps Baekhyun from doing anything that he’ll surely regret tomorrow.

It takes Baekhyun a while to realise that Jongdae is fumbling with his keys, the multiple keys in his Mike Wazowski keyring (he had gotten it when they visited Disneyland once, and Jongdae had looked irresistibly cute in his Mickey Mouse headband) jingling against one another as he tries to unlock and fails miserably.

Baekhyun steps forward to help. Jongdae opening his door faster means Baekhyun going back home sooner and that says a lot because Baekhyun doesn’t think he can stand being with Jongdae a bit longer, not after the things he’s said today, no matter how drunk and unconscious Jongdae has been.

The process is tortorous, Jongdae standing so close as Baekhyun fiddles for the right key, – the one with the orange marking on it – but Baekhyun succeeds to unlock the door in one try.

Baekhyun pushes the door open and hands Jongdae his keys, ready to leave, but he’s held back when Jongdae wraps his fingers around Baekhyun’s arm, holding him there.

“Baekhyun,” he says, softly, almost a whisper.

Jongdae is so close Baekhyun can smell the faint scent of his cologne despite the strong alcoholic smell that he exhales. Jongdae is so close, closer and even closer until his lips meet Baekhyun’s and all Baekhyun knows is that Jongdae is kissing him, wet tongue darting out to lick at the seam of Baekhyun’s lips and their mouths pressed together in something a lot better than what Baekhyun’s imagined kissing Jongdae would be like.

Except it’s not.

Except this isn’t the Jongdae that Baekhyun wants. Baekhyun doesn’t want a drunk Jongdae kissing him. Baekhyun doesn’t want to kiss Jongdae when he’s under the influence of alcohol, doesn’t want to kiss Jongdae who only wants him out of pure lust.

Don’t drink too much; don’t be a whiny little shit and eat the chicken neck it’s good for you; I’ll walk you home. Baekhyun had thought that it was all too obvious. Turns out Jongdae is frustratingly oblivious and indifferent and Baekhyun is nothing more than some idiot who’s hopelessly in love.

It’s all so stupid and Baekhyun’s chest aches so much it hurts to breathe.

Jongdae’s lips is so soft, and Jongdae’s body is so warm pressed against Baekhyun’s like this, Baekhyun would kiss Jongdae for minutes even with the pungent smell of alcohol.

Oh, how Baekhyun wishes he could.

Instead he pushes Jongdae away, breathes out a shuddering breath as he stops Jongdae from stepping forward and crushing Baekhyun’s already wounded heart any further.

“Get in,” he tells Jongdae. His voice comes out shaky.

Baekhyun doesn’t bother looking Jongdae in the eyes as he pushes Jongdae through the door.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Baekhyun says, already turning around.

Maybe tomorrow will be better. Jongdae won’t even remember anything that’s happened today and Baekhyun will pretend like he doesn’t, either. It’ll all be so easy.

Jongdae doesn’t say anything, not even as Baekhyun walks away.

Baekhyun doesn’t look back.

 

-

 

Sometimes, Jongdae thinks, alcohol is the best solution to forget, albeit for just a little while.

Today is one of those nights. It’s so easy to just go out and drink, to drag Kyungsoo and Chanyeol along because they’re convenient and distracted when drunk, and Jongdae needs the company.

Tonight, though, Jongdae makes the mistake of doing more shots than Kyungsoo, going a tiny bit out of beat and out of hand, so much that Kyungsoo feels the need to call for someone to pick Jongdae up and send him home because he thinks Jongdae’s too drunk to do it himself.

Out of all people, why does it have to be Baekhyun?

It’s too late to say no when Baekhyun arrives, looking extremely sober and presentable in his black button down and pants. Jongdae’s jacket is barely even holding onto his shoulders.

Baekhyun doesn’t say anything as he heaves Jongdae up, shifting so that Jongdae has an arm around his shoulders. Jongdae tries to say something around the line of, “My phone.” He thinks it comes out as gibberish instead, but sees Baekhyun reach out for it somewhere on the mess that is their table and feels him stuff it into Jongdae’s back pocket.

Only when they’re outside the roadside eatery does Baekhyun say, with a hint of frustation in his voice, “Why were you drinking when I wasn’t there?”

Isn’t it obvious? How could Jongdae drink and talk his problems away with Baekhyun there?

“A couple of shots and you’re already this drunk and I’ll have to go and pick you up again,” Baekhyun continues to complain, that nagging tone of his breaking the silence of the night.

Standing is difficult when you’re under the influence, let alone walking, Jongdae’s feet stumbling as he struggles to move them coordinatedly. The few LED signboards that line the stores and diners blur together in Jongdae’s vision, the alcoholic haze adding to his already poor eyesight. The occasional cars that pass by only make his head spin even more with the bright headlight flashing by in high speed, his eyes heavy and the back of his mouth dry and bitter, craving for more alcohol.

Jongdae pulls Baekhyun to the side after a while, dropping himself on a hard surface as he craddles his face in his hands, frowning at the ground. He’s aware of Baekhyun sitting across him, looking exceptionally fine in his black clean-cut outfit even as he curls his arms around himself, fighting away the early autumn chill.

Across him, Baekhyun starts talking, though Jongdae can’t quite figure out what he’s saying, his eyelids heavier than before as he struggles to stay awake. The spinning is starting to slow down now, but the drowsiness kicks in and weighs him down like a heavy load at the back of his eyes. Baekhyun is still talking, but right now, Jongdae just wants to sleep, wants his bed and comforter, or maybe just more drinks. Yeah, more drinks sounds about right…

“I like you,” is said in a voice that is distinctively Baekhyun’s.

This is why Jongdae shouldn’t drink. He’s such a lightweight and tends to disregard that tiny crucial fact. Three shots of soju (or was it four? He vaguely remembers drinking from Chanyeol’s glass at some point) and his mind is already starting to play him.

When he looks up, Baekhyun is looking at him with some sort of an oddly timed seriousness on his face. Jongdae smiles, snickers even, because surely it’s a game now, and games are supposed to be fun.

“Were you drinking?” he throws back at his mind, now a messy jumble of thoughs that apparently wants Jongdae to think Baekhyun actually likes him. What a joke. Why is Jongdae living such a joke of a life?

Baekhyun doesn’t say anything, and Jongdae expects that, because clearly Baekhyun didn’t even mention anything to begin with. Jongdae considers apologizing to Baekhyun – preferably tomorrow, when he’s in his righter mind – for having to go through all the shit that Jongdae is going to ramble at him any second now.

“You sure did,” Jongdae continues, reaching out for Baekhyun. He succeeds to land a finger on Baekhyun’s shoulder, the tip of it poking at the black fabric of Baekhyun’s shirt. “No wonder you smell awful.”

Jongdae didn’t realise that he’s been craving for physical contact until now, as he brushes Baekhyun’s shoulder lightly, tracing the slope of it with the tip of a finger and thinking of how it would feel like to actually touch the skin underneath. Probably warm. And soft. Jongdae… wants Baekhyun to touch him back. Why does Baekhyun feel so far?

“How many times have I told you not to drink when I’m not there? Who will carry you home when you’re too drunk to do it yourself?”

Jongdae hears Baekhyun sigh, a tiny faint sound that’s only slightly exasperated and mostly tired, and he nearly smiles because he’s almost sure it’s his mind playing games with him again, except now he can feel Baekhyun move under his touch. Jongdae can feel the way Baekhyun’s body moves as he sighs, can feel the fabric of of Baekhyun’s work shirt shift as Jongdae brushes his finger down Baekhyun’s shoulder, a quick brush down the arm before landing on Baekhyun’s knee. It’s so real.

“Good guess,” comes out of Baekhyun’s mouth, a tiny quirk of his lips. “But no, I haven’t been drinking.”

Jongdae draws circles on Baekhyun’s knee, watches as his finger circles continuously, spinning and spinning like his head. Maybe it’s the alcohol doing it to him, making his head turn endlessly until he feels so lightheaded and confused, and Jongdae is only partly sure that it really is the alcohol.

The other part of Jongdae thinks it’s something that has to do with the painful thing that’s wrapping itself around his chest, clenching so tightly around his heart that it hurts. It’s even more ridiculous that he actually feels it hurting, somewhere in his chest, like a dull ache.

How stupid. Jongdae could laugh. He could laugh if he wanted to. He wishes he wanted to.

“I mean it, Jongdae,” he hears Baekhyun say.

The throbbing in his head is back again, a series of persistent thumps that’s more maddening than painful, now. “I don’t-” Jongdae tightens his grip on Baekhyun’s knee as he wills his eyes not to close. Just the thought of finally letting himself fall asleep in a cozy bed and giving in to the sweet invitation of slumber makes his head droop tiredly, his eyes heavy and head throbbing incessantly.

“My head hurts, Baekhyun,” Jongdae tries to say as he reaches up with the hand not holding onto Baekhyun’s knee to massage his own forehead, but the words come out as no more than a soft, incoherent mumble, even to Jongdae.

Baekhyun is saying something, Jongdae notices, but he can’t pay attention to what it is because he’s too occupied with trying to stop his head from throbbing, fingers massaging his forehead on a desperate attempt to cancel out the headache.

It’s after a moment of frustration that Jongdae finally lets out, with his head still pounding and a bitter taste in his mouth, “I want to go home.”

The walk home is a blur, but Jongdae notices Baekhyun’s presence, clear as day, leans in to Baekhyun’s arm that’s guiding him and curls into the warmth that is Baekhyun.

It feels like a whole hour of Jongdae fighting sleep and trying to make his legs cooperate before they arrive home. Jongdae notices it’s his house and fishes out his keys, bringing them up close to his eyes and fumbling for the right key.

Slipping the key into the lock is on a whole different level. It won’t fit no matter how he pushes it in, and there’s a moment of Jongdae frustratedly poking at the keyhole until Baekhyun steps in and takes the keys from him, and suddenly there’s no more distance as Baekhyun stands right in Jongdae’s personal space, so close that Jongdae can easily spot the beauty mark above Baekhyun’s lips even through the haze.

Baekhyun’s lips. Jongdae wants to kiss them so bad.

There’s a click of the front door and then Baekhyun’s handing Jongdae his keys but Jongdae doesn’t bother with any of that, instead reaches for Baekhyun’s arm and holds Baekhyun there. Holds Baekhyun still.

“Baekhyun.”

Up close, Baekhyun looks even more stunning. He has really pretty eyes, and a really pretty nose, and really pretty lashes, and really, really pretty lips.

Jongdae wants to kiss Baekhyun so bad.

So Jongdae does.

Jongdae kisses Baekhyun, presses their mouths together in a kiss that makes Jongdae only want to lean in closer, draw Baekhyun in and never let him go. It’s sweet, sort of, – Jongdae’s head is still very much throbbing – and Baekhyun’s lips are so soft as Jongdae darts his tongue out to lick at the seam, Baekhyun’s breath hot as he sighs into the kiss.

Baekhyun is so warm, so cozy and Jongdae feels so secure as he leans into Baekhyun’s warmth, tightens his grip around Baekhyun’s arm to pull him closer.

And only then does Jongdae notice, a little belatedly, that Baekhyun isn’t responding.

Baekhyun is still, uninvolved as Jongdae kisses him softly, sucks his bottom lip desperately and tugs him closer so his body presses right against Jongdae’s because it’s not supposed to be this way, right? Jongdae wants this and Baekhyun is warm and the kiss is nice so why isn’t Baekhyun kissing him back?

Why doesn’t Baekhyun want him?

Jongdae can only comply silently when Baekhyun pushes him away firmly with his hands on Jongdae’s shoulders.

Why is Jongdae so pathetically in love with his own best friend?

“Get in,” Baekhyun says, sounding tired, as he pushes Jongdae through the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jongdae watches as Baekhyun turns and walks away, watches Baekhyun’s departing figure as he thinks of what he’s done – _tries_ to think, despite the alcohol still clouding his mind and vision, of what he’s done _wrong_.

No words come out of his mouth as he watches Baekhyun walk away.

Baekhyun doesn’t look back.


End file.
